***1/2 Outkast

AQUEMINI

(LaFace/Arista)

Call it Southern hospitality -- while what's left of hip-hop's "hardcore" contingent grumbles through increasingly speedy bus tours of the ghetto, the Atlanta duo Outkast invite you to stay in their world until way after dark. Their third album is a dense masterpiece full of jaggedly seductive speed raps laid down over instrumentals reminiscent of pre-Shaft Isaac Hayes. Granted, "Mamacita," an ill-advised attempt to sip from Big Punisher's champagne flute, is more creepy than sexy. Think of a Courvoisier cognac jingle penned by Marilyn Manson. But the rest of the disc just sweats. Andre, the pensive one, affirms with every rhyme that he'd "rather be a comet" than a star. Big Boi, the prosaic one, handles the dirty work, saluting a girl who moves "like a Brown Stallion horse with skates on" and bragging about trading Outkast merchandise for sex -- at the mall, no less. Both MCs display intelligence, charisma, and an abundance of soul. And as the ridiculously funky "Rosa Parks" demonstrates, they know how to make backbones slip like a couple of veteran chiropractors. The only thing missing is a side of grits.

-- Alex Pappademas